


GodHood Gangsters

by worldeater



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Conspiracy, F/F, F/M, Gangsters, I guess there's romance?, Investigations, M/M, No Summoners, Politics, Romance?, Vento Aureo Inspired, Violence, Weird As Fuck Powers, Yul'Turon, current canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 06:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12525172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldeater/pseuds/worldeater
Summary: Zaun, Piltover, a tale of two cities, the same story told over and over again. The rich and the poor, the strong and the weak, and in the middle of it all is a powder keg just waiting to blow. A spark is all it takes to set everything ablaze.A GodHood Gangster is all it takes ...[No Summoners][Current Canon][Original Protagonist][Multiple Original Antagonists]





	1. It's all in the details

**GodHood Gangsters**

* * *

_Chapter 0_

_It's All In The Details_

* * *

Cecil B. Heimerdinger was in a predicament and he did not like it.

It all started a week before this day, the second month-a-versery since Zigmund's disappearance forced the good inventor to move shop. Heimerdinger had quite a mix of feelings ever since Zigmund and that blue haired menace left for Zaun. Firstly came a most sublime and wonderful sensation of freedom. No longer was his storefront called "Heimerdinger's Pyrotechnic Provisions," but rather "Heimerdinger's Hextech Emporium" and that broadened the scope of his shop's workings and tested his mental mettle. The first couple days were filled with a quiet he had never thought he could experience with both customer satisfaction and personal satisfaction skyrocketing to an innumerable measurement. Transactions were processed, people were pleased and it all seemed satisfactory.

Alas, temporary pleasures were so fleeting. He knew he would have to deal with the ramifications of Zigmund's exit and he pushed the emotional confrontation all the way back until just a month ago. He had closed his doors and intended on a single day's worth of rest to recharge his batteries, but instead of a day, he didn't even look at his shop until a week ago. To think, he could waste three weeks on dispassionate sullen attitudes; the least he could have done was progress a pet project.

How could he, the great Heimerdinger of all yordles, let this happen? Of course, being as intelligent and observant as he was, he knew Zigmund was bound for trouble, but Heimerdinger thought Zigmund was an impressionable figure. Zigmund had that spark for creativity and excitement that only a rare few had. All Heimer had to deal with was that explosive tendency of Zigmund's and even then, the elder had been willing to adapt and meet in the middle with Pyrotechnic Provisions. Heimerdinger had been confident in his pupil, but weeks upon months of toiling with Zigmund and finding ways to adapt to the youth's willful wishes were wasted on that fateful day.

And worst of all, it was his fault that he had turned Zigmund back. Of all the thoughts he could think of, that one weighed heaviest on him.

Even as Heimerdinger began to open up his shop this very morning, unlocking door lock after door lock, his arms felt tired. He had a solemn face, but with his transmogrification charm hiding his yordle origins, a different face showed. Instead the world would see his expression of a lowered brow and stern frown, a pinkish face locked with a serious disposition. Heimerdinger could not afford to waste time.

Pulling the door open to his shop, Heimerdinger quietly shuffled himself into the doorway before closing the shop door behind him with a jingle as if to welcome Heimer for a new day of business. Today, however was not that day. The closed sign kept still as Heimerdinger flipped back the locks into their held positions. Once he made sure nothing had followed him, Heimerdinger kept the blinds over the windows as he posted a different sign.

"HEIMERDINGER'S HEXTECH EMPORIUM IS CURRENTLY CLOSED.

WE WILL BE OPEN NEXT WEEK, THE DAY AFTER PROGRESS DAY."

The edges of the sign stuck firmly with a glue mixture of his creation and with the sign fixed in place, he stepped back and turned to face his charge. On any ordinary day, the shop would have been bustling with life with lights illuminating the back shop and the front store. Instead, the room was cool, dark and most importantly empty of all life. Zigmund would have been the first to arrive back when the store still focused on those pyrotechnical contraptions of theirs, a quirk that Heimerdinger appreciated from his ex-pupil. But with Zigmund's exit, the light of the shop was gone with him. Heimerdinger stood in the dark with a different neighbor, a large ornate wood box.

He had been expecting the box for about a week now and ever since he had known about its arrival, Heimerdinger had been dreading its appearance. The first day he had reopened his shop after his depressing episode, Heimerdinger had been beset by a rather large fellow. Heimer recognized the Clan Hollaran's sigil in an instant, recalling their control over the city's artifact trade. At the time, he didn't truly understand why any family would send a representative over to his shop, but they had made their intentions quite clear.

"You're small," the representative had answered through a snarky grin, imprinted into Heimerdinger's memory. Of course, being the customer service genius he was, Heimerdinger kept his expression level just as he had done many times before.

"Of stature or of reputation?"

"Both."

Heimer simply nodded. The meeting was quick, but jarring, especially when a stack of cogs and crashed onto his front counter. Nearly five thousand shining gold cogs came clinking on his table, in an ornate box no less. Perhaps Clan Hollaran had a fetish for them, but that wasn't Heimerdinger's business. What was his business, on the other hand, were the orders and instructions that came with the cogs. Strict confidence and disclosure was to be expected, but the other caveats and details were disturbing. No working on other projects, no communication with any other person while on the job. He tried to ask questions, but the representative had only offered two answers – yes or no.

Five thousand gold cogs helped him make his decision.

Now, a week later, the yordle scientist was feeling for an opening in this damnable box. Heimer didn't know how he was going to be gentle with a crowbar, but the inventor wasn't about to test things at the moment. Open, study, and record – that was his job. Nothing more, nothing less and he'd be finished within the week they said. Destroying whatever was inside would certainly slow things down and the faster he could finish his little job with this Clan, the better. The crowbar, as such, plucked out each nail one at a time, his hand steadying over each hard piece. There were about twelve nails in total and each had been meticulously crafted with a strong metal core. He could practically see the money glint off its surface from the shine alone as he recognized the careful engineering with each piece. Whatever these nails were built to hide, they were certainly doing their job well.

When he did finally get the box open, he couldn't even tell what he was looking. The object in question had been cushioned by soft straw all around its spherical form. A deep red glow clashed with the straw, bleeding a harsh red against tanned hay. Heimer held the orb in his grasp and his eyes naturally gazed upon the marvel, the craftsmanship of the object. He was no expert on ancient artifacts, but the very make of this orb felt … familiar. As ancient as it was, there was still that base of hextech machinery underneath it all that called to him in this object to the point where he recognized shapes and parts within the mess that made up the sphere. The red glow was annoying though and after a moment, he began to squint in the red light. He put down the orb, but as it crushed the hay bedding under its form, Heimerdinger heard another sound that drew his eyes.

Hidden amongst the bale was a small piece of paper, torn and crumpled but even then the yordle could see markings over its make. He pulled the paper open only to find gibberish in the dull red glow. It was half a page of nothing he could read, writings of a different form that he deduced may have been Shuriman … or was it? He gave it another look over, just to be sure and he realized that nothing was recognizable. Even Shuriman had articles and words that he could recognize amongst the mix, but this paper had nothing. Worse yet, it had been written in an atrocious hand writing like a pen had slashed at the page in a bloodthirsty frenzy. When he turned it around, Heimer was still befuddled by the gibberish until he came across a revelation. It had been a stroke of luck that his room had been so dark, as the lights would have no doubt extended his search. The glow coming behind the paper, he suddenly had his sight on the words that bled through with aid from the red light.

It was, indeed, another language, but with the wicked handwriting front facing, he could at least try and read some of it. He should have been honestly been setting up a more comfortable position for himself, but he was so enamored with this backwards written note. Only when he finally translated a small string of words did he finally stop himself, his small fingers unhinging his goggles before he made sure he was reading things right.

"… _**the hand of god …" "… the fingers writhe …" "… feed …" "… the face … empty …" "… the cradle lives …"**_

He paused for a second, taking a gander over the orb in its darkened glow. For a moment, he considered stopping it all, closing up the box and keeping himself out of harm's way … but to do such a thing would put him in the ire of Clan Hollaran. The money was already in the bank, locked away and mixed within the vaults. Worse yet, their attempts at secrecy had Heimerdinger expecting some form of silencing, whether or not he succeeded.

Regardless, this was all smelling strange. He needed to get rid himself of this thing. He reached for the orb, intending to send it back to the Hollaran family in a proper box … until he remembered the last time he rid himself of responsibility. Zigmund and his depressing face echoed in his mind as his hand quivered.

He stood there for a moment, the growing glow of red hitting his transmogrified form and marking pink skin with a reddish tinge.

"No," he muttered to himself, "A week span, nothing more."

Cecil B. Heimerdinger was in a predicament and he did not like it.


	2. Awake and hating it

  **GodHood Gangsters**

 

* * *

_Chapter 1_

_Awake and Hating It_

* * *

There are lines that sometimes cross the terms of "bullshit" and "bull-fuckery" and today, one of those lines were crossed in far too many ways.

[Jay ](https://i.imgur.com/fEuXXdx.png)woke to a quiet whisper leaking out from his lips. It was a raspy sound, the kind of sound that tingled against his throat. He hated feeling it scratch against sensitive vocal cords, forcing a hacked cough out from him. As he made the sound again, he slowly began to realize that the raspy sound was just his normal breath, sounding more like a victim of lung cancer than anything else. His chest was aching with each long breath, his body weak from … he didn't remember. All he could feel was his neck with the rest of his body rigid like a corpse. Even his eyes felt like they were glued shut and every ounce of strength in his face came to pull them open, only to find darkness. As he jerked his head up, he came up quickly before a dull pain shot from his forehead as he felt his face scrunch up in a snarl. Something hard had met his face.

**_Oh thank god, more bullshit._ **

He tried to blink in the darkness. When his eyes couldn't adjust, he put every bit of energy he could into his hand and moved it off his side and his sense of touch gave a less than enjoyable answer. The surface was cool and dry, but something brushed against his fingers. Bringing it to his nostrils, he got a whiff of old rust as he sneezed before wiping it off. His hand felt around, trying to find an escape from the darkness, but only found a more pressing matter.

The metal eagerly met him at all points; hell, he was surrounded by it. It was a rusted sarcophagus that pressed all manners of dulled and sharp points against torn clothes and uncovered flesh. Movement brought pain and something strained against his legs as his nerves twitched inactive muscles. How long had he been here? Where was here? He tried to move his legs, but only the uncomfortable shaking sensations of still blood wracked him.

Jay's breathing picked up and he felt dryness in his throat that he never felt before. His stomach ached too, like a ball had been squeezed into his guts before expanding. Hints of stinging remained near his knees and as his eyes relaxed, he waved his hand over his face and surprisingly enough, he did see something in front of him. Seeing movement was good, but it was blacker than sin. Still, at least he wasn't blind, a good bit of news compared to the avalanche of bad.

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel scared … or feel relieved that he at least woke up.

Now, Jay wasn't an amnesiac and he never drank hard enough to incur full on memory loss, but no matter how hard he tried to remember how he had gotten in this place, he only seemed to dig deeper into a confused disoriented mess. He cycled his thoughts and all he had were whispers; the hazy ones were the worst. They were all vague, stupid little gnats, just pestering him. Bad memories, good memories, they did nothing to help him remember.

The first clear image came with the thought of his typical routine: Wake up, brush teeth, eat food, and get moving. It brought the first bit of warmth to him, the sight of the familiar stabilizing him. Here, in this fantasy perfect world, he was alone and prepping himself as normal. He didn't have to deal with anyone else or clean up after people; Jay simply existed and dressed immaculately - no violence, no murder, just peace and the normal things he wished he could have experienced once more.

Instead, he was here in a different routine, a routine that always broke the mold and tried to get him killed.

**_So then, alright, no bed,_** he though, trying to crack a joke to himself. Jay instinctively reached for his chest to find … clothes. **_Still got clothes at least … bit ripped, but still there._**

He patted down his clothes down to his knees. Jay couldn't bend down to his feet, but as his foot began to regain its sense of touch, he felt his shoes on him, shielding him from the metal poking against his frame. So, if he had his clothes, he hadn't been mugged. He wasn't bound either so no one was trying to teach him a lesson or transport him. So … perhaps-

His hand pulled up and reached up for the back of his head. Jay breathed a sigh of relief as he felt a normally shaped cranium. Alright, so he wasn't mugged, kidnapped, or dead.

**_Christ, Jay,_** he thought as he forcibly tried to calm himself. He needed to remember that fearing for one's life was not fucking normal. ** _Ok, stop complaining. Think. You wasted two years now use it. What did they say about this kinda crap?_**

The first thought that came to his head was gibberish, pure idiocy. He wiped it away and started over. What did he need to do? He needed to get out of here, to escape. His hand naturally clenched, but all that came was an aching palm. Alright, perhaps a different solution was needed. He closed his eyes, trying his damnedest to slow his breathing as he hoped to stop wasting air. His weak limbs were certainly helping him as he began to calm down. With his breathing slowed, Jay kept his head in the game, thinking through the situation bit by bit. Despite his attempts, there was that little itch in the back of his head that kept annoying and reminding him. These were regrets, questions, and possibilities – all of which asked why he was there. The only problem was he had too many answers.

**_Fucking Russians? Chinese? Yakuza? Cartels, maybe,_** he thought. **_Who else is re- no, whoa now … Stupid, yea. Who else is stupid?_**

Frustration built within him as he thought deeper in his memories, but he stopped feeling that anger as he began to play back the last two years. Bitterness crept him and with it came despair … or at least, he knew that it would be there. He had the mind to stop himself from going to self-pity and going over two years was not something he needed to go through. He'd rather be angry and frustrated than bitter and helpless.

Jay started to forgo caution as he searched for softer areas where the metal smoothed out. He had been breathing long enough to at least tell that air was coming in from somewhere. That meant the coffin wasn't sealed and that meant it could be moved. The metal creaked against his hand and he quietly pushed, but his strength lasted for barely a second. As his arm gave out the wet noodle he felt himself to be, Jay expelled his breath, coughing fits following as he wheezed. Okay, so the bloated feeling in his stomach wasn't just a stomach bug; how long had he actually been in this … whatever?

Searching his person brought no sources of food, though he didn't expect any. There was an old candy wrapper, something he had been meaning to throw away. Every time he had tried, he had never found a trash can … today being no exception as he shoved it back into his pocket; that tendency of his was just as controlling as his own mistakes. Jay shook his head, fighting back and forth with his stupid thoughts. He needed to stop thinking about random shit and get out of here!

Maybe there was a way to contact the outside? Maybe he could get help? He thought about some other options, and even options that he would have preferred to avoid. I mean, how hard could it be to get advice? Still ... it did mean he'd have to deal with ... that guy. He was hesitant at the thought; he didn't like the idea of submitting so eagerly in some time of desperate need.

Nevertheless, he could feel an itch on his hand as he thought things over. At first he thought it was his own fingers, but then he realized he couldn't even feel his other hand. His right hand twitch with an irritable itch that came over in droves. That fucker, that mother fucker ...

Jay tried to squeeze his hand, but his fingers didn't answer him. He grunted, he spat, he growled and shook in place, but again, his body remained still. Was that what was going on? Was this supposed to be his death bed? Was he to be subjected to some unholy torment while paralyzed with muscular atrophy?

It was only when his mind began to wander at a faint sound did his rapid thoughts stopped and the thoughts of his hand. The sound had been so soft that he never noticed it until he had finally shut his mouth to think. It was the lightest of scratching, the pitch so high and the volume so low that he wasn't sure what he was hearing. He tried to determine direction when he found the sound to move and through a keen ear, listening to the sound get louder and move from somewhere down before getting closer and closer.

His ears focused on the sound and soon the faint scratching stopped. Something muted came through the dull noise as he held his breath, the silence seeming to swallow everything. A slow whine suddenly followed, piercing the silence. He winced, but the light that came blinded him hard enough to make him want to care. He turned his head as his eyes narrowed.

A large pair of eyes greeted him.

"… Hi," Jay wheezed to his own disgust, "Jesus, I sound like shit."

* * *

_AN: Please Read and Review_

_Thank you for your time._


	3. Mop the halls and check the trash

**GodHood Gangsters**

* * *

_Chapter 2_

_Mop the Halls and Check the Trash_

* * *

Kez pulled herself out of bed today, early enough as to avoid first light. Only the eerie glow of the grey settling in front of the window could be seen, making today a particularly chilly day. Her hands shook, taking a moment to pull into her blanket for warmth. She just wished the night could last longer; her dreams were practically calling to her. Alas, yesterday had passed and to dwell in such things would have been pointless.

Taking care to tie part her short locks, Kez took care to keep her bare feet silent. One step made no sound, but even silent was not enough to keep the others from stirring as she went towards the other side of the room. Yawns came, followed by quick shuffling and hurried jumps as Kez patted her face down with old, sitting water from a bucket. When she finally cleared her eyes, she had the joy of watching the rest of her group stir to life with varying degrees of success.

The silence was broken in almost an instant. There were shouting, kicking and screaming followed by sighs of relief as they realized they were not the last. Their attention went back on to the final two of their number, their voices now quiet as they whispered.

"Told you it'd be Wyn or Nico," Janke said as he poked Kez at the side. The older boy was her senior by about five years and certainly acted like it whenever he kept his trademark sneer. Alas, such bigger boys had their uses, yesterday being one such example as she remembered their group's day. Of their small group of five, however, it seemed Wyn and Nico were the ones that enjoyed yesterday the most. She even remembered Wyn still talking about it right up until they collapsed on their beds.

She gave a quiet prayer as she watched Wyn try and bring himself out of bed. The race seemed close with the brothers barely getting a lead over the other. Nico, the elder of the two, suddenly began to kick his sheets off, as though fighting an enemy. He looked ahead of Wyn who had only just begun to pull himself up.

"Wyn was last! He was last!" Nico groaned as he tried to jump out, only to fall flat on his face. Kez felt an excited smile sprout as she watched Nico tumble in the sheets. It seemed the enemy he had been so desperately trying to kick off was giving Nico more trouble than he thought. The others laughed and Kez followed suit as Wyn was able to scramble to his feet and pull out of the rough fabric. Wyn was shivering, no doubt a consequence of sleeping in less blankets than his brother … but at least it brought a victory.

"Am I," Wyn's eyes looked like they were blurry, his eyes squinting. He tried to count the rest of the group before he gave up, "Who's last?"

Janke laughed and shuffled up to Wyn, taking the younger boy in his arms, "You got Nico down to the wire. Looks like he's got the pots today!"

"You gotta be-" said Nico as Wyn's face turned from confused, to happy, to excited.

"You got the grey today," Wyn said as he helped his brother to his feet. Nico was grumbling all the way, but Wyn turned to Kez and she slowly felt her heart flutter.

* * *

As much of a victory as Wyn may have achieved, there was still a matter of the other punishment of theirs. Pots of all kinds would be Nico's job and as much as the others teased, everyone was praying for his safe return. There were the stew pots of varying age, the plant pots that needed watering … and of course, the chamber pots that would need a full cleaning. Kez tried to keep her mind off things, but suffice it to say, the bathing chambers would have an occupant for quite a while.

That still left the floors needing sweeping and scrubbing, hard work … but work well deserved. The scent of acidic lather filled the halls with the harsh citrus musk, but no one complained, not even Janke. No one was dumb enough to dare suggesting trading places with Nico. Kez only wished they had better rags as she felt her fingers sting as she scrubbed on her knees, but rags were probably the last thing on Mama Elodie's mind.

After getting her spot scrubbed down, Kez gave her back a stretch. The Hope House was coming alive, with the other orphans getting up for a hearty stew for their breakfast. Their little group already had their share, save for Nico who had been insisted on keeping his stomach inside his body. She often wondered how many kids stayed at the house for only a small handful truly stayed here. Everyone else either had places they could hide out in for the Gray or had gangs they could run with. There was never enough breakfast to feed everyone even when Mama Elodie cooked all morning long.

Speaking of which, as the rest of the children from came down towards the small dining room, Mama Elodie came out from the kitchen as she wiped the sweat off her brow. The matronly mistress of the Hope House peeked towards all four of them; Feen, Wyn, Janke and Kez all looked up at the stern woman as respectfully as they could. The matron's eyes came to Kez before her melodious voice came forth, "Kez, can you help me serve the stew for breakfast?"

Kez nodded as Mama Elodie looked back at the other three boys, a smile crossing her lips, "Working hard?"

"Yes, Mama Elodie," the three said. Wyn's eyes went to Kez as she nodded a silent promise.

"Good, perhaps that will teach you all to not cause so much trouble."

Their sullen gazes closed as they nodded, accepting of the housemistress' light scolding. Of course, of all the respect these kids may have given to Mama Elodie, if they went back in time with the same choice available to them, every last one of their number would have done it again, from the Rising Howl to the sneaking and most importantly, to hear Mama Elodie.

Kez quietly followed Mama Elodie away from the others as they went back to scrubbing. Hushed voices came from the trio as Kez turned the corner, but before Kez could hear, Mama Elodie hurried the girl into the kitchen. The kitchen was fairly large at least for Kez. She didn't know if it was any bigger or smaller than other kitchens as this was the only kitchen Kez had been inside. Pots and pans hung from hooks just barely in reach for the girl, but the scent of a warm stew told her she had no need to get on her tip toes. Atop the stove, towards the far end of the room and right by the window, was a cauldron and from which wafted up a most delicious scent, a scent she herself had eaten and felt warm her stomach.

As the housemistress grabbed the cauldron, Kez followed close behind with a ladle towards the dining hall. A bustle of children could be heard, but rather than being a messy crowd, the children had formed a line that snaked around the tables. The closest looked tired, no doubt having woken up the earliest. They would be the first to eat and Kez could sympathize as the infectious yawn came to her. Mama Elodie set the soup cauldron down at the serving table with a heavy thump before she took Kez' ladle and began to serve. Each child had their bowls in hand all stolen, "borrowed" or gifted. Most had been Mama Elodie's, but she had been a strict housemistress and no one dared lose their bowls now.

It was during this time of taking bowls, serving and cleaning did Kez suddenly feel her heart flutter. Mama Elodie's voice started in a hum, a most alluring of sounds that had the children all quieting as they walked obediently. Every time they grabbed their bowls, the children had been giving thanks, but their thanks were quieting out as the hum turned to hymn and the hymn turned to melody. To the children there, they all saw the matron that took care of them and the hope house, but Kez – and she suspected the others – saw her differently.

Yesterday had been a test of bravery with so many firsts shattered. It had been the first time she had climbed and then jumped onto the Rising Howl, the first time she had gone to Babette's Theatrical Emporium … and of course, the first time she saw Mama Elodie in the most heart wrenching voice. To Kez, no longer was the woman just their caretaker, their Mama Elodie, but now she was the beautiful songstress from Ionia adorn with jade and green alike. Kez remembered feeling her chest grow silent as though the very essence of her soul was being dragged out of her before she felt filled with a deeper sensation. A symphony of sounds and laughter, dancing and musing, perfection made real in the form of song. Then it was over and she felt herself collapse to her knees. She remembered feeling a warm tear pool in her eyes as though the sensations were drained out of her … but while the sensations left, the memories remained.

How she managed to feed so many children, Kez would not know. She, like every child in the dining hall, had been so enamored by Mama Elodie that the serving had gone by. The effects of the memories gone, Kez looked up at the Hope House mistress, hoping to see that goddess of song once more. Instead, all Kez saw was the loving gaze of her mother figure smiling at her. The woman hefted the cauldron again and Kez hurried along behind.

"Are you going to sing there … every night?" She asked quietly as Kez followed Mama Elodie. The woman was quiet, but her silence was brief. Once she lugged the black pot into the corner, she pointed towards it for Kez.

"Clean that up for Nico, will you Kez? I'm sure he's got his own problems."

Kez giggled, though the lack of an answer didn't help ease her curiosity. The girl slowly began to pull out cleaning supplies when she turned back to Mama Elodie. The woman was watching over with an amused glint in her eye, something that Kez easily caught as the two looked at each other.

The silence continued between them, but just as Kez was about to turn, Mama Elodie's expression seemed to ease up.

"Yes, I will be singing there again," she said before she suddenly pointed towards Kez, "But I want you to promise me, do not tell the other children. Your appearance caused quite a stir and I'd like to avoid that."

Kez nodded which brought a smile to Mama Elodie, "You were beautiful in your dress too," Kez mentioned as she thought about the jade dress, "Are you really an Ionian princess?"

All Kez received was the sight of her smile lowering just a bit. The change was small, but Kez was an observant girl; she could see the amusement fading just slightly before Mama Elodie came over to Kez and kissed the girl on the forehead.

"Yes. Now let's clean this up. No need to keep you and the others here _all_ day."

* * *

"Nico still in the baths?" Kez asked as she came outside to smell the thick, humid air of Zaun. Scrubbing and cleaning some of the bowls took a good long while as did cleaning the trash, but by the time she was done, the others had done their share of house cleaning and sat in the front of the steps. Nico, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Yea," said Wyn as he stood up, "He told us to go ahead."

The others followed suit as they looked around. Normally, Wyn never stayed around Janke and Feen as they had seniority, but yesterday had apparently had them giving their respects. The way they acknowledged Kez with a nod rather than a sneer told her that they felt the same about her as well.

"So what are we gonna do?" Janke said as he began to take control. With Nico bathing, the thicker boy was in large and in charge. "Wanna go back Bonscutts and check out the Entresol?"

"I think I'm good with the Entresol for now," Kez admitted shyly. "I don't want to get Mama Elodie in trouble …"

"Aww, don't worry about it. It'll be cool. We gotta check out the arcades – oh, the cultivair's got a back entrance we can try out."

"Naw, she's right," the skinny Feen said as he huffed, "Entresol's boring. Only reason why I'd wanna go is tuh hear Mama Elodie … but you know."

"Hey," Wyn said as he looked up to the other two boys, "We could try to go junk diving today."

The suggestion brought pause to Feen and Janke's conversation as they spun to Wyn. Junk diving was a dangerous practice when it came to pilties and as fun as it might have sounded, even Kez knew of the consequences. There was the ordinary junk in the trash dumps, but those were normal garbage, the sewer sludge. Junk diving meant diving in Clan scrapyards. Why they would even want to guard their garbage was beyond Kez' understanding, but people always snuck in whenever they could.

"You think you can even handle that?" Janke said, laughing at Wyn. "Just cause yuh jumped on tuh the Howl, yuh think you can sneak?"

"Hey! I can sneak just like the rest of yuh!" Wyn retorted, "And I'll just give 'em somethin' tuh chase, like that stupid sump-sucker last night."

"Well that sump-sucker didn't try to shoot you! And we had Mama Elodie!"

Wyn grumbled, but Kez was feeling the gravity of the situation. Other than the Rising Howl, nothing yesterday was gonna kill them. They would have taken hits, been beaten, or maybe broken bones … but that was the life in Zaun. Granted, being killed in Zaun was no big feat either, but there were still lines there. Junk diving was a line that most were not willing to cross.

"The Lost Children do it all the time," Wyn complained, "We'll just do what they do, hit like Ferros or something."

"Those guys?" Feen scoffed, "Those sump-scrubbers are insane. They're always doing crazy stuff and getting themselves killed."

"I heard one of them's got a crazy hextech thing that makes them see the future." Janke added as Feen scoffed.

"That's gray if I've heard it."

Despite Feen and Janke's back and forth, Wyn looked like he had heard enough. Kez watched as he shuffled past the two boys, his eyes looking towards her's.

"Uhh, You wanna come with me Kez?"

She blinked, the thought rolling in her head as she coughed nervously. She didn't want to go junk diving … but the last time she let herself do something crazy; she got to hear Mama Elodie sing that beautiful song. How many other crazy adventures would she have if she let herself go a bit more? Better yet, the entresol level's many oddities had intrigued her and she wished she could go back with some cogs or hexes to her name. She's just be grabbing some junk from their scrapyard and they'd be out of there.

With a nod, she pulled her hand to Wyn's as the boy smiled back at her, her heart fluttering for a moment before they darted, leaving the Feen and Janke to argue. She had a feeling they didn't notice her and Wyn running together, smiles on their faces.

* * *

"Is this the right way?"

"Uh-huh," Wyn nodded as he looked around. An old scent wafted all around them as they began to dive deeper in to the heart of the bottom levels of Zaun. Where the Hope House remained on the lower floors, below those lower floors was "The Bottom" or "The Rust" for the smell of oxidized metal hanging about. Down here were where the junk lay and with the junk came the junk scavengers and the junk prospectors. Nearly a third of the land down in The Rust always had some sort of hexdraulics running, whether they were churning metal or melting things down to their base components. Sometimes Kez heard the screeching that came from The Rust, all the way from the Hope House. The days after would have the mentally unstable bums cowering in their dens as they muttered about the day when the Pilties split the land.

That being said, Kez and as she saw Wyn, was on edge for a different reason.

"The hexdraulics're quiet today," Wyn said as Kez followed him down the streets. Kez felt an uneasy sensation welling in her stomach as she tightened her grip over Wyn's hand.

"I-Is this … normal?" Kez said barely over a whisper.

Wyn didn't answer. He looked just as unsure as Kez felt. Survival instincts mewled in the back of her head, telling her to run on back home … but they were the same feelings she had when she was watching the Rising Howl just before she jumped. More importantly, Wyn wasn't saying anything, so surely things weren't completely off the deep end.

As they got closer to the ground level, the streets began to fade, over taken by old, untamed rock and dirt. The corridors of buildings slowly began to shift into a maze of pipes as the pair kept walking down the easier to navigate corridors. Wyn began marking the pipes as they passed with a small rock to peel paint and stain with a white fade. Their feet met with the hollow pipes in light taps as their light weight helped keep them hidden and with their eyes still working in the low, foggy light, Kez could see the ground level in its junkyard glory.

"Oh …" Kez squeaked softly, her voice echoing as they saw the The Rust's eternal hills of wonton metal. There was something beautiful seeing such still chaos, more so as the lights around the junkyard kept trained on the sight. It was the closest thing to a painting that she could find in the Entresol level, only this time she wasn't divided from the art by a glass barrier; Kez was in the art itself … and she was walking ever closer towards the masses. Wyn had to keep his hand on her and Kez on Wyn as they reached for spiraling pips that descended to the mess below.

When her feet reached the broken metal ground, she whipped her head at the sound of Wyn's curses.

"Wyn! You – shhh!" she said before her eyes went down to Wyn's downed form. His hands clutched at his foot.

"I think I got my foot on somethin'."

Kez scrambled over, now careful about the ground as she saw Wyn closely. Hard to believe that of all the crazy obstacles, the gray and hazardous wastes that was around, a nail was what got Wyn. It wasn't stuck deep, but Wyn had definitely taken a step in it as he had some difficulty pulling out the metal tip in the sole of the foot. The cheap shoe on Kez began to feel that much thinner and flimsier as she watched him throw the nail away.

"There … ohh, it's out." Wyn winced as he steadied himself on Kez. Seeing a blotch of red, Kez tried to look around, as if waiting for some sort of noise.

"I … this is bad Wyn. What if … the Howler comes fer us?"

Wyn didn't look convinced with the Howler … but Wyn didn't look too good. In fact, he was starting to shake a bit as he leaned on Kez.

"Wyn?" Kez asked as Wyn's breathing grew heavier.

"I … I don't think … nail … not."

Bad

Bad bad bad

Absolutely bad

If that wasn't bad enough, the sound of clattering metal was worse. Instinct had her pushing both herself and Wyn to the ground. She tried to quiet his breathing, but Wyn was not having it. That was when she could smell an old, dying scent all around. Whatever had gotten Wyn, it certainly smelled bad … really bad.

Bad enough for someone to notice?

She shook her head. She couldn't panic now. The rustling of metal began to get louder, punctuated with loud shout and jeers. Her eyes adjusted as she saw a glow coming from across the way. Though mounds of junk obstructed her path, she could clearly see outlines in the dark scrambling about as lights whipped up and around. She didn't know if this was a typical run or if they were looking for something. She would have asked Wyn, but he was still having trouble breathing.

And thus she did the only thing she could do but dig.

Not in the same exact place as she had been hiding, of course. If they did hear her, a move would be good for her. When she find a decently large pile, she grabbed Wyn, dragging him along the metal. She made sure to keep him from getting any more wounds, but time was of the essence. Pulling the metal a part, she even timed her unravelling of dirt and metal with the steps. Throwing some of the metal onto Wyn was easy enough to do. They were children after all and it wasn't the first time she had adapted whenever the chem-baron thugs came to rough her or her friends up. Yup, this was just normal, completely normal. She could deal with this normal.

What she didn't expect was someone else looking a back at her.

"… Hi, Jesus I sound like shit," hacked a horrifying voice … and she screamed.

* * *

_AN: Mama Elodie, Kez, Wyn, Feen, Janke, and Nico are characters by Riot Games. See "City of Iron and Glass" for a good story._

_Please Read and Review_

 


	4. Alive and Well?

**GodHood Gangsters**

* * *

_Chapter 3_

_Alive and Well?_

* * *

Did he ever mention hating kids?

No? Well, that was because he actually liked kids. It's not like he actually had his own kids to deal with, but babies … you know, they're cute. Kids are cute too, less so when you have to teach them or take care of them, but still, cute. Perhaps it was the very fact that he had not taken care of his own child that he was so accepting of them, so wide-eyed about the innocence of youth. No doubt he might have changed his opinions had he lived with one day after day, alas, his perspective had not been corrupted. Jay still liked kids …

… but Jesus, something was testing him.

He hadn't gotten a good glimpse of the tiny stranger, but the girlish shriek told him enough about who had found him. If his muscles hadn't been so tired and weak and pathetic, Jay … would have done nothing, because he was a good person and didn't hurt children. Thinking such thoughts was the sort of thinking a sociopath had and Jay was not a sociopath, no sir. Of course, that thought didn't stop his face from scrunching up, trying to subside the ringing in his ear.

"Alllll … Righ-TUH," he wheezed out. He stretched the word, just to help adjust his hearing, "You know what? I didn't need that ear. In fact, I don't need any of my ears. Thank you so much."

The silence seemed to suck the scream back into her mouth, but the damage had been done. He felt his eye twitching, a glare coming through on instinct as he gave his most serious of stares that he could ever come up with. The small darkened figure in front of him seemed to be holding back her breath as Jay quickly heard the metal around her feet grow still. He was eager to watch the figure, to keep his guard up with all his consciousness, but a flood of information came flooding into him with each passing second. Dull lights were oozing from all around, but their weak luminesce gave him little to work with. What he could see, however, lit the area around him as he saw the sharp shapes that had jabbed into him in the dark now shown clear. It was a metal skeleton, open and bare in many places while other spots were draped with torn rags that held the prison around him. It was the only reason why his room wasn't a collapsed mound of nuts and bolts.

Just as he turned his attention back to his so called savior, the figure ducked out of his view, metal fumbling about in her wake. Jay's burrow, which he had been so eagerly pushing with little to no response, shook ever so slightly and whined. Jay felt his heart skip a beat before the shape popped back up and with it the frame relaxed.

_**I dare you, you stupid fucking prison**_ , Jay thought, grimacing as he looked back over the shape. He recognized the first figure, the shape of her hair and clothes – the other less so. So now he had two mysteries to deal with, two strange figures that were lost in the darkness. The girl's shape had her head looking about, mutterings coming from her lips. The second figure leaned against her frame, just as tiny as her own as she tried to carry him. All he had was a blink before the second figure scrambled in to the burrow. For a moment, he thought the second figure was … thrown rather than moving on its own accord.

"Whoa whoa cal- Fffooo- mmph!" Jay felt a foot smack into his face. He could only groan before the shape turned to him, wincing for him with blue eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," The squeaky, tired voice of a little girl came followed Jay's own groan. His eyes barely caught sight of the figure turn from the darkened illusion of shadow into a small girl clothed in rags. She had a small dress on her that smelled of citrus and waved dust in his face as she shuffled the second form around. Said second form was dressed in a tightly fitting pants and tunic, all covered in some form of oily soot. It was a detail that the girl shared … along with the scent of grime.

"Merr feerrrce," Jay coughed. The girl turned and gasped before she turned back around to the outside. She was rather shaken what with her spastic movements and constant looks out towards the open beyond. It was rather annoying, but soon enough, Jay felt his displeasure fizzle as he heard sound of long, ragged breaths … and they weren't coming from him this time. His eyes naturally looked towards the sound and he found the owner of the foot that was still rudely mashed in his face. Something in his throat seemed to clench as he held sight of a sweating and weakening figure that struggled just to stay awake. Jay tried to shift himself away from the boy's foot, but it was to no avail for while physical weakness was starting to fade, he found himself looking at the kid's eyes starting to glaze over. The unfocused, scared expression came with a hint of desperation that Jay recognized on instinct. The boy was too out of it to read danger like Jay felt when he saw the girl trying to scan the outside world; the boy feared the cold embrace of death.

He saw movement from the corner of his gaze and looked up again. The girl had turned and was considering Jay or the boy, but Jay's face hardened.

"Move him first," Jay coughed, "Make sure he's okay."

The girl blinked, but nodded. She looked like she was going to argue, but he had probably told her what she wanted to do in the first place. As she pulled the boy out of the way, Jay felt the pressure of the foot on his face pull away and he watched the girl work. She was a quick little thing and she had a knack for helping her friend … perhaps a little too well. She didn't even flinch when she ripped off a piece of her own dress to close up something on the boy's foot. His head told him to shut up, but when he saw her trembling hands rubbing together, Jay couldn't help but sigh.

"What's your name?"

The girl jumped. She had probably forgotten about his useless ass. He snickered at the thought when she looked over his way, "Name's Jay. What's your's?"

She kept quiet, but sure enough, her shoulders were no longer tensed up. The girl gave one quick look at the open side before she turned back.

"Kez …"

"I … um, okay? Kez, did I hear that right?" She nodded and he sighed. Kez? Weird name, but, sure, whatever. Kez was the farthest name from strange he had heard … and at least he would be able to say it without wanting to throw up. He nodded towards Kez and looked down at the boy, "What's his thing? His name, sorry."

"Wyn … sir."

He grimaced the very sound of the word , "Sir … is - uhh … for an old person. Yeesh, do I look that old?"

She nodded, slowly transitioning into a more relaxed posture as she tried to lie next to Wyn. She did the occasional look to the opening, but her attention was on Jay mostly. Jay had a vague idea what she wanted to ask; he wanted to ask the same questions to someone that put him here. Alas, Jay spoke up first, feeling bored as he whispered to her.

"Something happening outside?"

The girl had her eye on the entrance when he asked and she turned quickly, "Uhh … yes. I –um … I'm sorry S- I mean … Mister."

Ehhh … Mister wasn't much better than sir, but at least he didn't feel like he had power over her. Mister just meant he was older, not old. Jay opened his mouth to speak when he heard a distant crashing and he stopped. If there was anything that could make Kez freeze any faster, it would have to have been liquid god-damn nitrogen. Her eyes were widening like saucers, and she looked like she was going to run again when she turned right around. She poked her head out of the hole to get a view of things before she pulled away.

Now, if it hadn't been dark as all hell, he might have been able to see the color on her face. All he got was that ghastly expression. She was looking panicked as her metaphorically frozen over state began to shake. Jay wasn't sure if he was supposed to be afraid of the voices or the now jittering girl before him.

"You oh-ka-"

"A-are you a junk diver?" she blurted in a hiss. Jay could do nothing but watch in abject silence as the girl's words popped out over and over, "Are they looking for you? What are they going to do? Are we safe here? Please Mister, w-we weren't supposed to be here and we just came and now Wyn is sick and I'm so scared and-"

A louder but equally far away crunch silenced the girl. Jay would have done the same and maybe even jumped had he not been so weak, but right now he had a mind to shut up as his ears picked up on movements. It took a second but as he got himself to ignore the girl's mutterings, Jay finally felt himself straighten out as he heard the footsteps. They were heavy ones, crackling against metal and perhaps bending smaller chunks as they moved towards their burrow. The footsteps even fanned out as he listened as before he knew it Jay was slowing his breaths. His eyes closed and brow scrunched, his ears desperate for information as experience set in. The volume of steps had divided into three distinct and different rhythms. One set of footsteps were light, nearly slithering across the ground as metal squeaked. Another bounced against the ground and the metal answered with a springing twang in return. Then there was the third, the heaviest of the bunch. Even as Jay lay so far off from the steps, he could feel the vibrations against his limp fingers … and it was getting closer.

Jay took a moment to relax as he looked back at Kez. Kid was scared like she was seeing her life flash before her eyes. Or was it just pure fear? Either way … it was feeling real shitty seeing a kid prepping for death. He gave her a quick couple clicks with his tongue. Kez whipped her face back over in his direction as he nodded. He tried to look as calm as he could, though he doubted he looked anything less than tired.

"Kez, it's okay," Jay doing his best to smile. He had to channel his inner protector as he gave her a wink. "I just need you to do something for me, okay?"

Kez nodded and Jay continued, "When I tell you to cover your ears … cover them real good, alright?"

Jay tried to keep smile, even as she was looking at him very strangely. All of a sudden she was trying to look over him like he had gone crazy, something he might have done had he not known his own intentions. The girl relented, however, and she gave him a curt nod.

"Good and the name's Jay. None of that sir stuff, okay? You're gonna be fine."

* * *

Kez had no words to describe the man, even as the time began to pass and lights slowly dimmed over the hour. At least, she thought it was the hour. Perhaps they had been in the pit for more than just an hour; she couldn't confirm since this was her first time here. She considered asking the man, but her own fear had overtaken her and told her to shut up.

After all, that fear had saved her life on multiple occasions. That same fear was telling her to understand the Noxian in the room, the seemingly weakened young man that lay in the burrow with them. Or perhaps it was her and Wyn that had been doing the laying because as far as she was aware, this was Jay's burrow and she was trespassing … no words.

Of course, she could describe the look, the feel, the emotions and everything she could associate with this person … but he was …

Strange?

Different?

Off?

Crazy?

She didn't know. When she first saw Jay, she had seen a man caked in rust, wheezing like a monster she recalled from the stories that she heard from the Bilgewater sailors. She thought him to be a long lost dead, released and ready to consume her flesh or tear her soul out from her. It was only when he had given her that look of utter confusion that she stopped and saw him for what he was …

A very strange Piltie

There was no denying it. He may have been hiding in the dumps and covered in rust, but the man had the garbs of a piltover citizen. He was a shorter type of young man and with scrawniness came a lack of a belly or chub that most of the upper class ran around with as if their fat denoted their status. Despite this, Jay still had the makings of an upper class citizen, going for a tightly fitting vest that hugged his smaller figure instead of a jacket. He had a calm visiage, . Underneath the dark vest was a collared shirt, hiding that black tie that seemed stained with old blood. However, of all the things she was looking at, or could see on Jay, it was Jay's shoes that took her eyes and mesmerized her over and over again.

Everything in a Piltie's outer wear was simple to recreate, but the craftsmanship of shoes troubled any that tried to walk amongst the rich. Kez wished she had shoes like the ladies of the court that occasionally came down to mingle amongst the rabble in the entrosol level. The image of her dancing in those long heels appealed to the girl, even more so when she thought of Mama Elodie's own dresses flowing with her dancing. As such, when she recognized the sleek and formal design of Jay's footwear, she couldn't help but look over each lace and map out the lines where she could see the needlework. There was a light embossing along the shoes' edges, indicating a dedication to the craftsmanship of shoe making.

"Like it?" Jay's voice pulled Kez out of her mind and she looked up, mouth agape and throat out of words. Her hands had been feeling the make of the shoe as she looked up at Jay's gaze. It confused her seeing someone give his look to her, a look of … understanding.

"It's called a captoe shoe. Extra leather in the front, sleek design, you know … formal and stuff," Jay shook his head, "Underside's got some extra layers, bit of a heel. I've had it for a while now."

Kez nodded, looking back down at the shoes as she felt comfortable near Jay. She didn't know what got her to feel better; perhaps she was starting to relax with the relative long stretches of silence around them. Alas, Kez could not afford to relax. Her eyes went back down on Wyn, who had just started to calm down now in breathing. He was still feeling a bit warm though.

"What happened?" Jay asked. Kez feel silent as she brushed her fingers against the boy's hair.

"He … he-his … foot got poked." She said as she pointed towards Wyn's shoe.

"Oh," Jay was starting to shift in his place now, though he still looked quite weak. Kez took a moment to glance back at Jay as she wondered … what would a Piltovian be doing down in the junkyards of all places. Worse yet, why was he so famished and skinny? Was there trouble in paradise?

Jay seemed to notice her worried look as he coughed or perhaps he wanted to make conversation. Either way, Jay spoke in his rough voice, wincing with his dry throat, "He'll be alright. You his sister?"

Kez shook her head, "We're from the same foundling home … the Hope House."

Jay didn't seem to get the meaning, but nodded soon afterwards as he looked between Wyn and herself, "Oh … orphanage. Sorry, foundling's not a real common word where I'm from."

_**I would think so,**_ she thought to herself as she looked him over.

"Are you … rich?" she suddenly asked. The question had blurted out of her lips as she was starting to dislike the option of silence or hearing ominous clanking from afar. Jay seemed to think the same, though his expression had Kez feeling unnerved until he let his amusement show.

"Ehh, rich isn't - I mean - it kind of works," he said, "Okay, sure, I'm rich. I had money, but I don't know if it'll do much if that's what you're asking."

"Oh," she quieted again. Kez wasn't really thinking about it at the moment, but her deep thoughts had instinctively helped her ease up around Jay. Rich he may have been, but condescending, angry, and hateful he was not. No longer was she seeing some rich figure swinging something her way to shoo her away, but rather, an actual human face. It didn't help that Jay looked younger than she initially thought and he didn't give any of those creepy smiles. She wished there were more people in piltover that acted like Jay.

"So, uhh, where are we?" he asked before he got quiet again. Kez gave him a curious look, but shook away her thoughts.

"The Pits."

"Oh, The Pits," Jay chuckled, "Sounds like real prime real estate."

_**Real prime real estate? Is that a piltie thing?**_ Another question came to her she pondered. Truly, she and this young man were from two different worlds and yet he was happy enough to bridge the gap. She finally felt a smile peek from her lips when a light pitter patter came from above. Jay took note of the sound as well, looking out to the burrow, but the glow around the entrance had turned to dusk.

"Well that's annoying," Jay said as he coughed, "Is the rain getting in?"

Kez shook her head. Even from where she was, she felt dry. The angle of approach had the light touch of water trickle around their burrow. She was worried about the possibility of tainted rain, but the Gray Rain was rather known for a pungent acidic scent. Her hand even poked out to confirm as she took a sip of the droplets.

"Uhh, I know this might be weird," Kez turned as she heard Jay's voice, and he continued, "You mind getting me some water? I think your friend might need some water too."

Kez blinked. The thought hadn't occurred to her. They hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the morning and Jay, much longer. The rain would at least alleviate one problem and she soon began to rip another part of her dress. From the corner of her own eye, as she clumped the fabric, she caught sight of Jay's distress though he didn't seem to make any comment on the matter. Once the fabric had felt significantly damp, she pulled the fabric back as she squeezed the water into Wyn's mouth who tiredly lapped the dripping fluid. She did this a few more times much to Jay's insistence. He seemed

"Remind me to get you some replacement clothes when we get out of this," Jay said. Kez smiled, but shook her head. As nice as he was, she still didn't trust promises with any monetary value. Any replacement was worth well enough for her.

"Shoes … would be better," she mentioned thoughtlessly as she reached out for the rain outside once more.

It took a bit as she felt the rain begin to fade, but just as the rain finally stopped, she pulled her hand back and pulled the soaked clothe in Jay's way. His hands shook as he took the cloth and he had to suckle the fluid directly from the fabric. Jay gave a long drawn out sigh as he finished and Kez gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"So shoes?" Jay said as he began to look between Kez and Wyn. She noticed him looking down at the boy's bandaged foot before he looked back over Kez' way, "I can do shoes."

Kez smiled, but still, reality seemed to whisper on her back. She gave an unenthusiastic shrug as she tried to find a good place to lie down properly. Jay was still looking over their feet before he spoke.

"I can do it now, if you want."

That caught her attention. She paused before looking back up and saw Jay staring at her. He had a playful look, all knowing and yet, benevolent. It reminded her of a performer that was ready to reveal some hidden secret or worldly knowledge in the form of a play or song. Mama Elodie sometimes had the same look.

"How?" she asked quietly. Jay lifted his right hand as if to present his palm.

"It's a magic trick, a really awesome and secret magic trick that you can't tell anyone, okay?" he said as he winked, "If you give me your shoes, I just gotta say some cool magic words and they'll disappear. And then after that, *boom* magic and my left hand is going to have an even better pair of shoes. Interested?"

Now that was a fascinating trick, though she didn't know how he could perform such a feat. She almost tried to question it every step of the way, nearly pushing her curiosity to a corner before her own childish wants got the best of her. How could any sensible child deny their curiosity of something as strange as that? Not only would her old shoes disappear, but a new pair would come in its place.

"Better?" Kez said, her fingers instinctively crawling towards her feet.

"Yup … and I'll do it for him too."

_**Wyn … oh, his shoes**_ , she nodded, though she was somewhat hesitant. She didn't want to take off the bandage and Jay seemed to notice.

"It'll only be a second, alright? I'll be quick … and if you want, I can do your shoes first."

Kez agreed. She could do that and even if he could only fix up her shoes, at least it would be better than nothing. Slipping the rough leather into Jay's right hand, the young man smiled as he closed his hand over her shoes. He pulled it behind his back, shimmying in place as he gave a low hum.

"Ooooooh," he said in a silly voice. Kez snickered as he moaned, "Bim, balla bim, klato nicto whooosh, alakazam, abra kadabra!"

Jay pulled his right hand out and looked over to Kez. Nothing remained in his hand, but Kez rolled her eyes.

"It's just behind you."

Jay shook his head, "Nope. Nothing back there."

Naturally, the girl snapped up to her knees and scrambled over to him before pushing Jay aside. Though he tried to fight back, he could not fight the girl's legs pushing him out of his spot. The short lived battle ended as he flipped out of the way to reveal … nothing. Kez paused before she smiled as she turned him back.

"What's in your right hand?"

"Glad you asked," Jay said as he gave an all knowing smile. For a moment, Kez thought she had caught Jay red handed in a silly trick. She watched him raise his right hand with something in his grip before her eyes widened. What she was expecting was a faded, old brown leather boot of a thing with the soles ripped and torn along the edges with rat bites. If there was supposed to be anything that was fixed, it would have had to have been the unkempt knots on her laces that were stained with the very rust on Jay's hand. It was supposed to be funny or silly or endearing … she wasn't supposed to be frozen in place with the sight of a comfy looking, pinkish pair of boots, marred not by the rough world that had held her for so long. Kez could see Jay's playful glint as he tossed her the boots. They landed on her lap and her eyes darted up and down, stuck between shoes and apparent magician.

"HOW?!" she squealed, nearly forgetting she was supposed to be hiding. Jay simply smiled before shaking his head.

"Magic trick," he winked before he laid back. He gave a sigh as his breathing came ragged and hollow, "Though … I don't think I'll be able to do it for your friend."

Kez was bouncing. Magic! She had seen real magic. It wasn't the tricks and silly hextech weirdness that she had seen in Zaun, real magic. She scrambled back over her new shoes checking them out before pulling them over her feet. A soft fuzzy embrace met her toes before she found the sole of her boot. The shoe fit so perfectly that she nearly ignored the alien coloration and texture that snuggled right against her shoes. Glorious, amazing, impossible … magical.

When she looked back over Jay, he beamed proudly before giving a short bow. Smiling her way, he stopped her questions as he put his fingers to his lips, his movements looking stronger now that he had been hydrated.

"Just a trick. Nothing else."

* * *

Kez was just like any other kid. Once she got into the fun of his "magic show," she was all smiles and giggles as she scrambled about. Course, the more he thought about it, Jay felt a rising inclination to tell Kez not to accept gifts from strangers … especially if they were promising her magical foot wear. Jay shuddered at the thought of wandering white vans with the promises of candy and magical wonderlands …

_**Jesus, I am literally the god damn definition of a creepy homeless guy,**_ Jay thought as he settled in for a night of rest. Kez and Wyn snuggled up against the tarp. The girl had dropped the moment she could trust Jay and by god, he wasn't about to ask how she could fall asleep here. It was only when the girl finally collapsed when he looked over her boots.

Were pink boots out of place in a junkyard … yea, but fuck it. He didn't like admitting it, but the way she had been fawning over his shoes left him uncomfortable, like he was finally meeting those kids he saw on those cheesy adverts. It was all fun and games when he didn't have to meet a girl dressed in her own filth … and god damn, she was a trooper taking care of her friend.

Alas, all things came with consequences. Jay knew of two consequences, one if and when they escaped this mess … and a more pressing consequence that affected Jay in the now. Though his strength returned, he felt himself beginning to weaken as his right hand clenched down on itself, a wet sensation trying its best to slither out. His fingers dug into the palm of his hand as he looked over to his right. A dark shape slithered leaked out as he felt an unseen force push against his fingers.

"This was a one-time deal," he growled. The dark shape paused, waiting but still pushing against him.

_Gifts … are never … returned._

"I didn't say I was returning," Jay said. His hand grew pale as his fist held rigid and firm, "Just stop trying-"

_Is that your will?_

"No shit," Jay spat to the old whisper. With no blood remaining in his hand, he could feel the electric fire of a vibrating numbness enter him, poke at him, torture him. With the numbness, each finger opened. One by one, he watched as his palm remained open to the world and there he could see the infinite black he had always seen. Jay shook as he saw it fade into flesh, flesh and sinew sewing back to close the gaping maw that had tried to escape.

_Will for me. Your will be done._

* * *

_AN: Please read and review._   
_Thank you for reading._


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